Running Out Of Moonlight
by purplepagoda
Summary: Mac finds herself at a bar, in attempt to drown her sorrows. A tall, handsome, NCIS agent joins her. Will it be the start of something new, or a beautiful disaster?
1. Neon

He enters the bar after a long day at the office. The day consisted of a double homicide, and nearly being run over by a fellow agent in the NCIS parking lot. He looks around the bar, which is barely half full. He looks down the bar, and finds a woman sitting at the end, by herself. He moves towards the end of the bar, and stops at the stool next to her. He puts on his famous, or rather infamous DiNozzo grin, and clears his throat.

"Is this seat taken?" He asks the brunette.

She looks up from the drink that is sitting in front of her. She meets his glance with a pair of dark brown eyes.

"No."

He takes a seat next to her. He motions for the bartender, but never takes his eyes off the other patron at the bar.

"Can I buy you a beer?" He questions.

"No," she answers, in a flat tone.

He takes a glance at her glance. "Can I buy you a drink? What's in the glass?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you."

"Please," he begs.

"I am fine, thank you."

The bartender approaches, and nods at Tony. "What can I get you?" He questions.

"I'll have whatever she's having," he replies.

He looks over at the brunette, and finds that her lips have curled into a smile. The bartender walks away without another word.

"What are you smiling about?" Tony questions her.

"Nothing," she lies.

"Really?"

"I was just thinking that it has been a really long time since anyone has tried to pick me up."

"Why is that? Are you married?"

"No, I guess I'm not. Not anymore," she answers.

"So, you're divorced?"

"I am not," she shakes her head.

He studies her face. The brunette has dark hair, and dark eyes. For a brief second her facial features almost remind him of Ziva. He pushes the thought from his mind, as he stares at the attractive, forty-something at the bar. She sits to his right. He looks to his left, at the half a dozen twenty something's on the other side of the bar. He quickly refocuses on the woman sitting right next to him. The bartender returns, and places the glass in front of him.

"You're not married anymore, but you're not divorced?" He questions as he reaches for his glass.

"Correct," she nods.

He takes a sip of his drink. He swallows as she carbonated beverage tickles his tongue. He smiles at her.

"You're drinking ginger ale?"

"Indeed," she nods.

"You came to a bar to drink ginger ale?"

"Nobody comes to a bar to drink ginger ale," she points out.

"You're being awfully evasive," he points out.

She smirks, "That is my job."

"What do you do for a living?"

"Why would I tell you that?"

"I am just trying to make small talk."

"You are trying to pick me up," she corrects him.

"I don't even know your name."

The bartender overhears their conversation. He interjects as he prepares a drink. He makes eye contact with Tony. "Her name is General."

All color drains from Tony's face. He looks over at her, in disbelief, "He's kidding, right?"

"Just one star," she informs him.

"Just a one star General?"

"Yes," she nods.

"So you're a one star general, who is at a bar drinking ginger ale? You're no longer married, but you're not divorced either."

"That is correct," she nods.

"Why are you here?"

"Why are you?" She turns the question back on him.

"It was a tough day at work."

"Where do you work?"

"Why should I tell you? You certainly are not very forthcoming about any of your personal information."

"You answer my question, and I'll answer one of yours."

"I am Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. I work at NCIS."

"I am a lawyer."

"And a General," he adds.

"Yes."

"And, I am going to go out on a limb and say that you are a Marine."

"What makes you say that?"

"My boss is a Marine."

"Gibbs?"

"You know him?"

"I never said that."

"Who are you, and what are you doing here? I feel like I'm still at work, interrogating a suspect."

"Interrogating, or interviewing?"

"Who are you a lawyer for?"

"JAG."

"Oh," he swallows hard, "And your name is general. Why is a marine working for JAG?"

"It's a long story."

"Why don't I buy you a drink, and you can tell me all about it?"

"I don't drink."

"For religious reasons?"

"Not for religious reasons," she replies.

"Are you going to tell me you name? I told you mine."

"Sarah."

"So, Sarah what are you doing here, if you don't drink?"

"I said that I don't drink, I didn't say that I didn't want to."

"I can't imagine what would drive you to drink?"

"I've been on a carrier, at sea for nearly a month."

"Why?"

"It was part of an internal investigation that took far longer than anyone anticipated."

"So why are you here, instead of at home?"

"There is no one at home."

"You live alone?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Who lives with you?"

"Why do you want to know? Why are you so interested in my life?"

"There is nothing interesting going on in mine."

"So you're trying to pick me up?"

"There are half a dozen girls down there that I could pick up. It would be much easier for me to do, too."

"So you like a challenge?"

He avoids her questions, "Would you like to dance?"

She shoots him a look. He smiles at her, charmingly.

"You only live once," he reminds her, "And I've never danced with a general."

She looks down at the outfit she's wearing. She's not in uniform. She wears a black v-neck t-shirt, and a pair of dark wash jeans. She shakes her head, and finally gives in. She slides off her stool.

"It's just Sarah," she insists. He slides out of his seat, and offers her his hand. She allows him to lead her to the dance floor.


	2. Whatever She's Got

Standing in the middle of the dance floor they sway back, and forth as she tries to lead him. He takes a step closer to her as a slow song comes on. She allows his hand to press against her back. She can feel his breath against her skin as he whispers in her ear.

"Sarah let me lead," he begs.

She finally relents, and he leads her around the dance floor. They are dangerously close as the song draws near its end. He feels his pulse quicken as he draws closer to the mysterious brunette beside him. He is certain that she can drop him in a second, but he pushes the idea out of his mind. He takes a chance. He doesn't hesitate, as he pulls her close, and presses his lips to hers.

For the first time, in a long time she feels something. Something re-awakens inside of her. She doesn't push him away, instead she pulls him closer.

He begins to pull away. The kiss ends, but both of them stand frozen, on the dance floor. She swallows hard as she tries to forget the most powerful drug of all. She breathes heavily as she stands less than a foot away from him. He remains silent. Suddenly any desire she had for alcohol has subsided. The only thing she can thing about is his kiss.

When she closes the space between them he can feel her lips brush against his ear as she whispers, "Let's get out of here." He nods, and follows her towards the door. She has her car keys in her hand before he can even mention the fact that he doesn't currently have a car.

By the time they reach her place both of them are too hot, and bothered to continue their small talk from earlier in the night. She exits the car, and he follows her down the sidewalk to her house somewhere in suburbia. She unlocks the front door, and they enter the house.

She locks the door behind them. She pulls at the lapels of his shirt, tugging at his tie. She skillfully pulls it off, and tosses it on the ground. He nearly knocks the light off the table in the entry way, as they back up against it. He glances past her, at the staircase to the right. He runs his fingers through her hair.

As he locks lips with her he begins to wonder if he is doing this because she intrigues him, and he needs a challenge, or because she reminds him of someone else. His fingers stop at the base of her skull.

As her hand presses against her chest she tries to push whatever memories she has back into her subconscious. She stares into his eyes, and for a brief moment she sees the emptiness in his eyes that she sees in her own reflection each morning. In that moment she decides to through caution to the wind, and ignore whatever reservations she may have.

Her fingers tug at the buttons on his shirt as he pulls at hers. Items of clothing fall to the floor one at a time. She leads him out of the entry way into the living room, narrowly missing the coffee table. They are down to their skivvies as they reach the couch.

He wakes up on a cold, hardwood floor, a few hours later. To his left is a couch, and to his right is a coffee table. His chest feels heavy as it rises, and falls. Within a split second he realizes that there is a body on top of his. He doesn't remember falling off the couch, but it is obvious that he has. He places his hand on the small of her bare back in an attempt to reposition her, without waking her.

She feels him moving beneath her. She places her hands on either sides of his shoulders. She leans forward. She whispers into his ear, "Where do you think you're going?" He doesn't answer her.

"Don't tell me you can't handle a woman on top."

He brushes her hair away from his face, "Do you want me to salute you?"

She begins to giggle, "I would like to see you try."

"You're sure about that?"

She soon slides off of him, and pushes herself off the ground. He lies on the floor as he listens to her walk away. He hears her as she climbs the stairs one by one. He waits until he's certain she's gone before he sits up. He doesn't attempt to recount his night, instead he gathers his clothing, and heads to the door. He slips out the door, and pulls the phone out of his pocket.

As he reaches the end of the sidewalk he glances at the mailbox for an address. He calls a cab. Within minutes he's home. He passes out on the couch, fully expecting never to see his mystery woman again.

* * *

Two months later he is at NCIS, preparing for an interrogation. He watches through the glass as Gibbs enters the room. The door closes briefly, before re-opening. He watches as a tall, brown eyed, brunette one star general enters the room. All color drains from his face. McGee looks over at him, and shoots him a questioning glance.

"Tony, what's wrong?"

"I can't believe it."

"Believe what?"

"It's her."

"Who?" He looks into the interrogation room.

"The suspect's lawyer, it's her."

"The mystery woman from the bar?"

"Yeah," he nods.

"Tony don't you know who that is?"

"Sarah," he answers.

McGee nods, "General Sarah MacKenzie, she's with JAG."

"She's really a General?"

"Yes," McGee confirms.

"I thought the bartender was kidding."

"Whatever she's saying isn't making Gibbs very happy."

Tony watches as the suspect rises from the table, and they head for the door. Without a second thought he leaves the room. He meets them in the hallway.

"Where are you taking my suspect?" DiNozzo speaks up.

The General turns towards him, in full uniform. Her heart skips a beat, and the color drains from her face. She can't seem to come up with an intelligible response. Gibbs studies her face, and then his eyes fall on his agent.

"The two of you know each other?"

"No," she answers.

"Yeah," he responds.

"Well which is it?"

Sarah clears her throat, "Petty Officer Rodriguez is a vital part of an ongoing investigation that JAG is working on."

"He is the key suspect in a murder, what could possibly trump that?" Gibbs questions.

She doesn't answer him, she simply leads the Petty officer from the hallway to the elevator.


	3. Get Off On The Pain

Later that night she pulls in her driveway. She sits inside her Jeep, in the driveway, staring at the garage door. She takes a few deep breathes, and is able to pull herself together. She exits the vehicle, with her keys in her hands. Before she can make it to the front door she hears voices moving towards her. She looks to her left, and finds two boys running towards her. Before she can get the door open the pair of boys are wrapped around her waist.

"I see that you're glad I'm home."

The boys grin, and then salute her. She rolls her eyes, and pushes them into the house. Her keys have barely made it to the dish on the table in the entry way before they begin to bombard her with questions.

"Can we have spaghetti tonight?"

"Yes," she agrees.

"Will you start it right now? I'm starving!" The older boy declares.

Sarah looks down at her watch, "I know that you just had a snack at four o'clock."

"I'm already hungry," he argues.

"It's already seventeen hundred," the younger one reminds her.

"Can I change out of my uniform first, boys?"

"Okay," they nod in agreement.

She climbs up the stairs to her room. She quickly changes her clothes, and returns to the two boys. A pair of Irish twins sit at her kitchen table, waiting on her. Both boys have dark hair, and ornery grins. One boy has dark brown eyes, and the other has hazel eyes.

"Mommy, we're so hungry."

"Reed, I believe that you will survive another twenty minutes," she responds to the four year old.

"Can we have a snack?"

"You two can help me by washing the lettuce for our salad."

"Our hands are dirty," her five year old informs her.

"Harmon, Reed, go wash your hands, and help me with dinner," she responds firmly.

The boys trudge off to the bathroom to wash their hands. She has managed to get the water on the stovetop by the time that they return.

* * *

He sits at his desk, staring blankly at his computer. His train of thought is abruptly interrupted by a smack to the back of his head. He looks away from his computer, and his eyes drift upwards towards his bosses face.

"DiNozzo is there something that you would like to share?"

"No," he shakes his head.

"Are you sure?"

"I don't understand why JAG is holding our suspect hostage. How does their investigation trump ours?"

"Maybe since you seem to know the General, you could ask her."

"I…"

Gibbs squints at him.

"What did their office tell you?"

"I was told that he is a key witness in a smuggling investigation," Gibbs responds.

"Why is JAG interested in a smuggling investigation?"

"JAG is interested in everything the Navy does," Gibbs points out.

"Boss something just isn't right. They throw up road blocks every single time we try to investigate."

"That is why rule thirteen was created."

"I am not the one who involved her."

"So what are you planning on doing about it?" Gibbs questions.

"I don't know. Any suggestions?"

"Rule eighteen comes to mind."

"What am I supposed to do with that?"

Gibbs smirks, "I don't want to know."

Tony nods in understanding, "Okay."

Gibbs leaves him, and heads for the elevator. DiNozzo is the only member of the team left in the squad room. He repositions himself in his seat, and begins typing furiously. Sometime after midnight things begin to become slightly clearer.

* * *

At first light he finds himself boarding a carrier dressed as a lieutenant commander in the United States Navy. He heads off the deck towards the interior of the ship to go to his quarters. He hears a helicopter landing, behind him. He continues to move towards the interior of the ship. He hears the sound of high heels moving towards him at a high rate of speed. He has just stepped inside when he feels someone gripping his arm. Before he can argue, or even attempt to break free he is being pushed into an empty electrical room. The door slams behind them. He stands in front of her in uniform. She stands stiffly, staring at him in disapproval.

"What are you doing here?" She questions him.

"How am I supposed to find anything out about my suspect when I have no access to him? You have even blocked my attempts to find out where he is."

"I am warning you to drop it," she insists.

"Sa…"

She cuts him off, "General," she chides him.

"General MacKenzie, what choice did you give me?"

"You could have asked to speak to the Petty Officer."

"We did. You denied every single one of our requests."

"Did you ever consider that there was a reason?"

"Indeed. Why do you think that I am here?"

"To completely ruin my investigation."

"I am trying to save mine, and help you out."

"Help me out?"

"Yes," he nods.

Her glance falls from his face to his uniform. She shakes her head in disbelief. She steps forward, and adjusts his insignias. She removes one, and proceeds to rearrange them.

"Who helped you get dressed?"

"The internet," he answers.

She rolls her eyes, "Agent DiNozzo I appreciate that you are trying to help me, but I don't need help."

"I still have an investigation to do," he argues.

"Put it on hold," she insists.

"The Petty Officer is suspected of killing six people in four days. How am I supposed to put that on hold? I don't even know where he is."

"He is not a danger to anyone at the present time."

"How can I know that when you won't even tell me where he is?"

"Trust me."

"Trust you? Why should I trust you?"

"Because you have no other choice," she warns him.

"Why is it that I get the feeling that there is something that I'm missing?"

"There is something you're missing. You need to go back to NCIS, and leave my investigation alone."

"I think that it would be a poor career move to send me back."

"And why is that?"

"The Captain of this ship is expecting me. He thinks that you authorized my presence as an undercover operative to aid in the investigation. I already spoke to him this morning, and he thinks that I could be a great help to the investigation. He seems to think that you're in over your head, and you need a partner."

"First of all let's get this straight, you are not my partner."

"Okay."

"And second of all, I am not the only one on this ship investigating this matter."

"The crew knows what you're doing. I am here to fly under the radar."

"You don't think that I already have people flying under the radar?"

"How could I know anything about your investigation? No one will tell me anything."

"There is a reason for that."

"Except that they think you have your sights set on the wrong group of people."

"I respect your opinion agent DiNozzo, but you are only going to be in my way."


	4. Crazy Girl

They spend the next two days at sea. As DiNozzo sits at a table playing poker with a few of the crew on the second day, he begins to consider that his mission is a mistake. The crew is tight lipped, and incredibly untrusting of any outsiders. He folds his hand, and leaves the table. He exits the room, and heads into the corridor. He doesn't hear anyone coming up behind him. Without warning he feels warm air against his neck. He turns and finds General MacKenzie standing behind him.

"Did I catch you off guard?" She questions.

"No," he lies.

"Follow me," she directs him.

He nods, and follows her into her quarters. Once he's in the room she closes the door behind him.

"Have a seat," she insists.

He takes a seat on the bottom bunk.

"Is this where you send me back on the next flight back to D.C.?"

"No," she shakes her head.

He picks up on her serious tone, and a brief showing of a worried expression. "What's going on?"

"This is bigger than we thought."

"And?"

"I am going to need back up," she informs him.

"If you want me to back you up I am going to need more information."

"I have been working on this investigation for nearly three years," she reveals.

He furrows his brow, "That seems rather lengthy."

"Up until a few months ago I had made absolutely no headway."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes," she nods, gritting her teeth.

"What makes the senior JAG officer come into the field for such a lengthy amount of time? Wouldn't your time be better served at the JAG office?"

"I like to take a hands on approach."

"And why three years?"

"Three years ago I was not a General."

"That's all?" He arches an eyebrow, imploring her for more detail.

"Three years ago my husband was killed in what appeared to be a hit and run."

"Appeared to be?"

"The car was ignited, in an attempt to conceal any possible evidence. It was a remote location, but someone happened to be driving by shortly after the collision. He was able to pull him from the car."

"But it was already too late?"

"The accident was staged."

"To what end?"

"To cover up what really happened."

"Which was what?"

"A bullet through the head."

"They didn't think the coroner would notice that?"

"The passenger's side window was cracked. They accident incapacitated him. He hit his head on the steering wheel. The perpetrator opened the door and put the gun to his head."

"They didn't think someone would notice the whole?"

"They used a small caliber weapon, with a hollow point bullet. They shot him in the ear."

"The bullet traveled through his ear into his brain, and stopped before exiting the skull?" He guesses.

"Yes."

"He was targeted?" DiNozzo guesses.

"Yes."

"To what end?"

"At the time I didn't know. I was in such shock that at first I didn't want to know."

"What made you change your mind?"

"I didn't know what to tell my two boys. They kept asking me where he was, and…" she trails off.

"How old were they at the time?"

"It was a week before my oldest son's second birthday. My youngest son was thirteen months old."

"You have Irish twins?"

She nods, "They're ten months and three weeks apart. They're four, and five now. For the first year after he died, I couldn't bring myself to investigate."

"The police didn't find anything?"

"There was no forensic evidence. One day while I was at work, I finally decided that I had to clean out his desk. I stumbled across the last case he had been working on."

"It was something that got him killed?"

"It seemed pretty open and shut. A Petty Officer was stopped at a routine traffic stop, and they found drugs on him. It was a small amount. It seemed to be a pretty simple court marshal."

"But?"

"It was just the tip of the iceburg."

"So that's why you pulled me in here?"

"I know who is responsible."

"And you need my help to catch him?"

"I need you to help restrain me. I want to kill him, but I can't raise my boys from the brig."

"What can I do?"

"Just follow my lead."

He smirks, "That shouldn't be a problem."

* * *

Hours later Gibbs meets them in the harbor. He smirks as he watches the two of them manhandle the ship's captain. He throws open the door of his car. Mac shoves him into the car, and Tony slams the door.

"I can take it from here," he reveals, leaving no room for argument.

"I'll see you back at NCIS," DiNozzo informs him.

Gibbs leaves them, standing in the shipyard. As the car departs Tony feels his heart skip a beat.

"You probably have to get home," he meets her eyes.

"Yeah," she nods.

"I'm glad you got your guy."

"Thanks for the back up."

"I would be glad to have your back, or your front any day," he teases.

"I meant my six."

"It is a nice six," he smiles.

"That isn't what I meant."

"I do know what it means to have someone's six."

"I should probably get going," she turns to leave.

He grabs her arm, without thinking. She has to ignore her reflexes to drop him to the ground. She spins around, and looks him in the eyes.

"Maybe you should give me your number, you know in case I…"

She smirks, "I know how to contact you, don't worry."

"Sarah…"

She leaves him standing in the dust. She gets into her car, and places the key in the ignition. She turns on the engine, but she hesitates to put the car into gear. She hears knuckles wrapping on her window. She sees the NCIS agent with a goofy grin, looking at her through the glass. She rolls down the window.

"Something I can do for you?"

"I thought you might want me to make sure that you make it home safely."

"I'm not even going home yet," she admits.

"I just want to make sure that you make it home in one piece."

"I'll be fine."

"I could buy you a drink."

"Then I certainly wouldn't make it home in one piece."

He takes a deep breath, "I can take a hint," he takes a step back.

She shifts the car into reverse. He hears a click.

"Sarah wait!" He calls out.

She shoots him a questioning look as he runs towards the car. Without a word he pulls he door open.

"What are you doing?"

"Get out of the car."

"The car is in gear."

"Now!"

She furrows her brow, and unbuckles her seat belt. He yanks her out of the car, despite her objections. As the car slowly rolls backward, they tumble backwards. Before the car can coast to a stop it explodes. He throws himself on top of her. They both lie on the blacktop. His body is curled around hers, protecting her from the blast. When she's certain they're safe she pushes him away from her.

"You okay?" He questions.

"I've been worse."


	5. This Ain't Nothin

The bomb squad, and the fire department arrive. DiNozzo escorts Mac to his car after she waves off the paramedics. Mac climbs into the passenger's seat, and puts on her seat belt. DiNozzo slams his car door, and turns the engine on. He pulls his seat belt on, and looks over at her.

"Aren't you glad that I had your six?"

"I should have known that it wouldn't be that easy."

"To get rid of me?"

"To end this."

"Can I take you home, now?"

"Yes," she nods in agreement.

* * *

Twenty minutes later they pull up to her house. He pulls into the driveway, and puts the car in park.

"Thank you," she smiles, graciously.

"You're welcome."

She reaches for the door handle, and then looks over at Tony. "Would you like to come in?"

"During daylight hours?"

"For dinner?"

"Really?"

"You have to answer quickly."

"Why is that?" He probes.

"In approximately eighteen seconds we will be invaded."

"By what?"

"As soon as my boys see a car in the driveway they'll be over here. Are you coming, or not?"

"I think I'll pass."

"Really?"

"Children scare me."

"Are you afraid of Gibbs?"

"Only sometimes, why?"

"One wants to be a Marine, or a Pilot. The other wants to be a cowboy."

"A cowboy?"

"He's obsessed with John Wayne."

Before she can finish the story DiNozzo sees two boys running towards them.

"We have a goldfish named Duke," Sarah adds.

"Okay," he pulls the key from the ignition.

Sarah exits the car. He follows suit. By the time he gets out he finds the two boy's wrapped around her. The younger boy takes a step back from his mother.

"Something wrong?" Mac questions.

The older boy eyes Tony suspiciously. "Reed?" She questions the younger boy.

"You smell like smoke, mom," Reed answers her.

"I'm glad to see you, too."

"Who is he?" Reed queries.

"This is Tony. He helped me with my case today."

"Is he a lawyer?" The younger boy quizzes.

"No. He is an NCIS agent."

The four year old steps forward. He studies Tony closely. He extends his hand.

"I'm Reed Rabb."

"Hi, Reed, I'm Tony. Nice to meet you."

The second boy doesn't approach Tony. Mac gives him a nudge.

Tony takes a step closer to the five year old, "You must be The Duke."

His eyes light up, and he giggles, "No, sir."

"So what's your name?"

"Harmon," he reveals.

"Tony is going to join us for dinner."

He joins them for dinner, and proceeds to help Sarah clean up the dishes. The boys holler at her from upstairs.

"I can wash the dishes if you need to help them."

"You're the guest."

"It sounds like they are playing cowboys, and Indians up there," he points out.

She hears them running back and forth above their heads.

"I worry more if it's quiet."

"How do you do it on your own?"

"My neighbors are good friends. Harriet keeps the boys while I'm at work."

"How did you end up with Irish twins?" He inquires as he clears the last of the dishes off the kitchen table.

"It certainly wasn't on purpose."

"Most of the time it isn't."

"We started trying to have a baby the day we got married. I didn't think that I could have kids."

"Obviously that isn't entirely true."

"For the first year Harm, and I tried every conventional method known to man. Nothing worked. Then we tried fertility treatment after fertility treatment with absolutely no success. We were married for just over three years when I finally got pregnant. Harmon was born on our fourth wedding anniversary."

"And Reed?"

"I was perfectly content with Harmon. I didn't think that it was worth it to test fate after how difficult it was to get him. I was perfectly happy with one child."

"You have two," he smirks.

"I never considered the idea that I might get pregnant again. We had to have a lot of help the first time. Harmon was born five weeks early after an incredibly difficult pregnancy. He spent the first two days in the NICU. I didn't want to go through that again."

"Obviously something happened."

"By the time that I went for my six week checkup I was already pregnant again."

"So he was unplanned?"

"I thought that they were going to have to pick me up off the floor. I didn't know if I could go through it again, especially since I had a newborn at home."

"What did your husband have to say?"

"When I told him he laughed. He called him the little Marine from the day we found out."

"Why is that?"

"He somehow managed to sneak in. My pregnancy with him was a breeze. He came on his due date without any assistance. He was born at twelve A.M."

"Punctual?"

"Definitely. So what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You're not married?"

"No. I guess I just haven't found someone who is willing to put up with me for the rest of my life."

"And you're really afraid of children?"

"Just other peoples."

"You don't have any of your own," she points out.

"Yours are okay," he clarifies.

"You haven't been in their rooms," she argues, "I've seen tidier war zones."

He furrows his brow. She smirks, and points towards the staircase, "Go ahead."

He leaves the room, and makes a beeline for the stair case. He stops at the top of the stair case, and finds two boys darting into their rooms, laughing hysterically. He heads into the room to his left. He finds Reed army crawling across the floor. The room is painted in army green. There are dozens of army men on the floor. He glances up, and finds army men in parachutes hanging from the ceiling fan. There are planes on the quilt on the boy's neatly made bed. Reed grabs onto Tony's ankle. Tony tries to break free, but the four year old refuses to let go as he exits the room. He heads to the neighboring bedroom dragging the four year old along with him.

He enters the room, and finds guns, and cowboy hats, and a poster of John Wayne on the wall. On the bookshelf are books on cowboys, and a collection of John Wayne movies. The five year jumps out of his closet wearing a cowboy hat, and pointing his toy pistol. He grabs onto Tony's leg, and sits on his foot. Reed holds tightly to his other leg. Sarah appears in the doorway.

"What are the two of you doing?" General MacKenzie questions.

"Can he stay and play with us?" Reed questions.


	6. Caught Up

She scowls at the boys standing before her. "That would be up to him."

"If you have something to do go ahead. It is obvious that they aren't going to let me go anywhere anytime soon," Tony responds.

"Are you sure?"

"I can handle a cowboy, and a Marine. My boss is a combination of the two."

"Then I am going to go take a bath."

"I offer to watch them for a little while, and that is your idea of a good time?"

"Considering the fact that I usually get three minutes to shower without being interrupted? Yeah."

"Okay, we'll be here when you get done."

She smiles graciously, and leaves the room.

She takes a long soak in the bathtub. When she exits her room half an hour later she's prune-y, and there is no ruckus. She peeks into Harmon's room, and finds that it's empty. She continues down the hallway to Reed's room. His room is empty too. She heads towards the staircase. She hears giggling as she approaches the top step. She descends the stairs and heads towards the sound of the giggling.

She finds her sons located in the dining room with a blanket draped over the dining room table. She slowly moves towards the table, afraid of what she might find.

"Tony are you okay in there?"

"I'm fine," he insists as she lowers herself into a squatting position.

Reed peeks out from behind the blanket with an ornery grin on his face.

"We don't need any help mom."

"Help? Why would you need help?"

"We don't," Harmon calls out.

"Reed what did you do?"

"We tied him up."

She pushes the blanket out of her way, and crawls under the dining room table into the makeshift fort. She finds Tony tied to the leg of the table. Her boys look at her, and begin laughing hysterically.

"That was not nice," she chides them.

"It's okay. I let them tie me up."

"That is a very bad idea."

"I realized that when Reed started tying a figure eight knot. You know most four year olds don't even know how to tie their shoes."

"I forgot to mention that he is obsessed with knots. I'm so sorry," she leans forward in attempt to untie him.

Harmon pats her on the shoulder, "Mommy, I'll untie him. I promise. Will you play with us?"

"It's okay," Tony insists.

"No it's not. My son tied you to the dining room table."

"It wouldn't be the first time I've been tied to a dining room table."

She shoots him a look, and he smirks. "Once when I was held captive I was tied to a dining room table."

"Oh."

"I should probably also mention that your son disarmed me."

"What?!" She turns to her five year old, "Harmon we talked about this a million times."

"You said no concealed weapons in the house. Remember?"

She smacks her forehead, "I told you that so _you_ would stop carrying concealed weapons in the house."

"He even took my knife," Tony adds.

Reed smiles widely, "And his back up."

"You took his guns?" Sarah asks in outrage.

"The safety was on, and I took out the clip, and cleared the chamber."

She looks at her son, and then turns to Tony. "I am so sorry. I should have warned you. They are both a little gun obsessed, and have been since they could walk. I thought it would be best to teach them how to properly handle a weapon…"

"It's okay. It was actually kind of funny."

"Mommy, sit down," Reed insists.

She rolls her eyes, and takes a seat, leaning against the other leg of the table. She sits next to Tony.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Tony tries to warn her.

Before she can answer her boys are hand-cuffing her to the table. They manage to have success by catching her off guard. The vein in her head pulsates. She shoots them a look, and they run out from underneath the table. She hears them exit the room, and race up the stairs.

"I am so sorry. I am trying to raise respectful, intelligent young men. Apparently I have been more successful raising a pair of terrorists."

"They are smart, that is for sure."

"Too smart," she argues.

"I don't know how you do it. They have so much energy. I'm exhausted and I only spent half an hour with them."

"You were probably wrestling the both of them in attempt to keep them from disarming you."

"They asked permission. They were polite."

"So you agreed?"

"I told them that they could try."

"Obviously they were successful."

"One jumped on top of me while the other disarmed me. They make a good team."

"So do most terrorists," she argues.

"They made sure that the guns were on safety when they took them away from me."

"And they took your knife so that you couldn't cut your way out of your restraints?"

"Luckily for me your son is four, so his knots aren't the tightest."

"They must really like you."

"You think that they like me?"

"If they didn't they would have gotten out the nerf guns."

"They did, but I defeated them."

"So this was vengeance?"

"They were impressed with my skills, I guess."

"So much so that they tied you to the dining room table so that you can't get away."

"And they took my hand-cuffs."

"Do they have the key?"

Tony wiggles, and finagles until he manages to untie the knots that have him bound to the table. He moves towards Sarah, rubbing his wrists.

"What if I don't?"

"You'll have to saw the leg of the table off."

He scoots forward, inching towards her on his butt. He stops a few inches away from her. He stops when his lips brush against her ear.

"You're kids are awesome. You're doing a good job."

This sends chills down her spine. She nearly blushes. She expects for him to reach into his pocket, and pull out his key. He kisses her instead. She hears footsteps running towards them. He holds out his hand. Reed ducks under the table, and places the key in the palm of his hand.

"I told you I could convince her to kiss me," Tony smirks. He holds his hand up for a high five. Reed smacks his hand, and runs out of the room once again.

Sarah cocks an eyebrow, "Are you going to uncuff me now?"

"I'll consider it."

"So this was all a set-up?"

"I was not the mastermind. Your boys didn't think that it would work. This operation was their doing."

"You didn't help?"

"Maybe a little, but only after they disarmed me. That really did happen. My hands were tied."

She laughs, "Literally."


	7. Too Little Too Late

He frees her of her restraints. She smiles at him as they crawl out from under the table. He stands up, and then offers her a hand. She allows him to assist her back to her feet.

"Thank you for tonight."

"You're welcome."

"What possessed you to offer to watch them? You told me that you don't like kids."

"They're not bad."

"That's it?"

"My mom died when I was young, and I just remember how hard it was for my dad trying to raise me on his own. He needed help, but he was too proud to ask."

"Thank you. I have to get upstairs, and wrangle them into bed."

"You want some help?"

"I've got it. Thank you, for everything."

He nods, "Call me if you need me to save you from a car bomb. I'm available day, or night."

She grins, "Next time my car has a bomb in it I will gladly call you."

She watches him leave. She hears the door close, and she climbs the stairs. She finds to half-naked boys passed out on her bed. One lays cross ways in the middle of her bed, wearing a pair of pajama bottoms. The other lays across the head of the bed wearing a pair of boxers, and nothing else. She rolls her eyes as she tries to figure out how to get them back to their rooms without disturbing them. She decides the mission is impossible. She considers climbing into the bed with them, but there is no angle for her to do so. She grabs her pillow, and flips off her light. She heads down the hall to one of the boy's bed. She crawls into the twin bed, and attempts to fall asleep.

* * *

When he gets home he takes a cold shower. He attempts to go to sleep, but he finds himself thinking of a certain brunette General. He tosses, and turns for most of the night. Sleep eventually finds him. In the morning he heads to work. He's nearly fallen asleep at his keyboard when a smack on the head wakes him up.

"Boss I was just trying to…"

Gibbs cuts him off, "Spit shine the keyboard?"

He nods, "Precisely."

"We've got a case, so grab your gear."

* * *

Two more months go by, and DiNozzo doesn't hear another word from Sarah. He realizes that it's possible she's not ready to move on, or maybe she's just not that into him. He sits at his desk staring blankly at his computers screen. He looks up, and finds Gibbs staring at him.

"What?" DiNozzo questions.

Gibbs rises from his comfortable chair, behind his desk. He crosses the room, stopping in front of DiNozzo's desk.

"When you're done brooding, let me know."

"What do you mean boss?"

"You have been sulking for months. I would appreciate if you would stop."

"Sorry, boss."

"Did you call her?"

He furrows his brow, "Who?"

"General MacKenzie."

"No sir."

"Maybe you should consider it."

"I don't have her number."

"Have you ever tried a phone book?"

"Do they even still make those?"

"You could google it," Gibbs suggests.

"Why are you taking an interest now?"

"You're driving me crazy."

"I have been trying to tone it down."

"And that is the problem. You're not yourself."

"She had my number. Why didn't she call me?"

"Maybe she is old fashioned," Gibbs suggests.

"Boss she is a female marine."

"Your point?"

"Maybe she just didn't like me."

"How will you know if you don't ask?"

He shrugs, "I don't know."

"Do you like her?"

"Yeah, a lot."

"So what's the problem?"

"She has kids."

"And you let them scare you off?"

"No. I liked them, actually."

"They didn't like you?"

"They liked me."

"Then why are you here?"

"You're here," he points out.

"It's Saturday morning, and we don't have a case. I am here finishing up backlogged paperwork. What is your excuse?"

"I didn't have anything better to do."

"Buck up."

* * *

That evening he manages to contact her, and convince her to join him for dinner. By the time he gets to the restaurant she is already there, and seated. He takes a seat, and shoots her a questioning look.

"Am I late?"

"Three minutes early," she replies without looking at a timepiece.

"So you're early?"

"Yes," she nods.

"I was surprised you agreed to meet me."

"Why is that?"

"You never called."

"I managed to get a new car that is bomb free."

"You still could have called."

"I've been busy with work."

"Oh?"

"The phone works both ways," she points out.

"Which is why I called you."

"Oh?"

"I just had something that I needed to get off my chest."

"You're the one who planted the bomb in my car so that you could get an invite to dinner?"

"What?! No," he shakes his head.

"Just checking."

"I'm not that desperate."

"Oh, really?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Why did you want me to meet you here?"

"I just thought we could share a nice dinner, and…"

She cuts him off, "I have to pick the boys up in an hour and twenty three minutes from the babysitter. I can't be late."

"Okay," he nods in agreement.

"Tony, I will admit that I had a good time with you, but…"

He shakes his head, "No, but's, please."

"I think that I gave you the wrong idea. I am not looking for any sort of relationship right now."

"Oh," he swallows hard.

"Even if I was, from what I've heard you're afraid of commitment."

"That is…"

She interrupts him, "Completely true."

"In the past," he nods in agreement.

"I don't think that I'm ready to move on, and I don't think that you want an instant-family. I don't want my boys to get hurt when you decide that it's too much for you to handle."

"You could give me a chance."

"To break their hearts? No. If it was just me I would be willing to give you the chance, but it's not."

"I thought that we had a great time together."

"We did."

"And I thought we had chemistry."

"It doesn't matter," she tells him.

"So you didn't call because you weren't interested?"

"You are a great guy. If things were different I would definitely be interested. I just can't, not now."

"There is nothing that I can say to convince you?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Then I shouldn't waste anymore of your time," he turns to leave.


	8. Restrained

She sits behind her desk, and watches at the door to her office opens, and closes. Agent Gibbs enters the room. She doesn't rise to greet him. He makes a beeline for the chair across the desk from him.

"Agent Gibbs, what are you doing here?"

"To ask you if you know what you're doing?"

"As General? Or as JAG?"

"With my agent's heart."

"With all due respect I don't think that is any of your business."

"He does not take defeat well."

"Obviously, he sent you."

"He didn't send me. I thought that I would deliver the files that you requested," he holds out a manila folder, and places it on her desk.

"If that will be all," she responds, coldly.

"No," her looks at her with his ice blue eyes.

"Agent Gibbs I appreciate your concern but…"

He cuts her off, "Don't spend the rest of your life waiting on someone who is never coming back," he warns as he rises from his seat. She rises from her seat. He glances at her, and then turns to leave the room.

* * *

DiNozzo is leaning up against the hood of her car as she enters the parking lot. She shoots him a look, and moves towards him with an armful of file folders.

"What are you doing here?" She questions.

"Can I help you with your files?"

"I think that I am capable of carrying a few folders," she answers as she pushes past him. She unlocks the door, and he opens it for her.

"Why are you here?" She questions.

"It's a free country."

She rolls her eyes as she attempts to get into the vehicle.

"I have to get home. You're wasting your time."

"Am I?"

"Yes," she nods.

* * *

_DiNozzo is leaning against Gibbs desk when he returns. _

"_Well boss?"_

"_I think you should let it go."_

"_Let it go? Earlier you told me not to give up. Why did you change your mind?"_

"_I have my reasons."_

"_For example?"_

"_There are just some things you can't hide behind a Marine's uniform."_

_Tony furrows his brow, "What is that supposed to mean?"_

"_If you want to know you should find out for yourself."_

"_Boss?"_

* * *

"Is there something that you want to tell me?"

"Move," she answers.

"Something else?"

"Why are you so persistent? Please just let it go."

"I don't want to let it go. I don't want to let you go. You are the first person that I have had any interest in for a long time."

"Interest is not enough."

"Sarah…" he begins to try to reason with her.

"General MacKenzie," she corrects him.

"Oh, so now it's General MacKenzie?"

"Whatever happened between us… it was temporary. It was just a fling."

"So it meant nothing to you?"

"It doesn't matter what it meant."

"Doesn't what you want matter?"

"Some days. Today is not one of those days."

"You really can't see this going anywhere?"

"It doesn't matter where I see it going," she argues, "You will get bored, and leave. I am not willing to take the chance. I don't want a commitment, and neither do you."

"You are putting words in my mouth."

"Please drop it. This isn't going anywhere."

"What about where it's already gone?" He queries.

"Excuse me?"

"My boss said something to me earlier today that didn't' make a lot of sense to me, at first."

"I don't really care what your boss said to you earlier today."

"He told me that there are some things that you can't behind a Marine's uniform."

"That is true," she agrees.

"Just like you can't hide the fact that being alone is killing you inside."

"I am not afraid of being alone," she insists.

"Do you push everyone away?"

She shakes her head, "Just people that are going to hurt me."

"Why do you assume that I am going to hurt you?"

"Because you don't know me. You only think that you do. You love the idea of us. Reality is a much different picture Agent DiNozzo."

"You don't believe in happily ever after?"

"Do you?" She turns the question around on him.

"I believe in second chances."

"I believe in restraining orders," she responds.

He takes a step back, "Your loss," he tells her.

She climbs into her vehicle, and slams the door. She watches him as he walks away. She tosses her folders onto the passenger's seat. She locks the door, and pulls on her seat belt. She puts the key in the ignition, and starts the engine. She grips the steering wheel, and begins to cry. After several seconds of weakness, she regains composure, and heads home for the night.

When she arrives home it's nearly six p.m. She puts her car in park, and exits the vehicle. No one tackles her on the sidewalk. She steps inside the house, and flips on the light. The silence of the house surrounds her. It feels empty as she makes her way into the kitchen. She nearly falls over a lego tower on her way. She stops at the sink, and glances at the pile of dishes. She decides to ignore them for the time being. She heads into the living room, and the house is still silent. Her boys are both at a sleep-over for the night. It's the first time in months that she's had the house to herself.

She grabs the remote controller, and flips on the TV. The couch beckons to her. She carefully unbuttons her uniform. She turns, and leaves the room. She heads into the laundry room, discarding her dirty clothes. She pulls on a USMC t-shirt, and a pair of yoga pants. She returns to the living room. Finally she takes a seat on the couch. She tries to watch TV, but it only irritates her. She flips it off, and lies on the couch. She feels a migraine coming on. She looks down at her toes. They're bare, and nearly all of the polish has chipped off them. It's been months since she's had enough free time to sit down with a bottle of polish. Four months, she recalls. She recalls the last time she had an empty house, and the events that transpired the evening.


	9. Intruder

_Two months earlier: The night after being handcuffed to her dining room table she awakens in Reed's bed, tangled in covers. She sits up, and all of her blood rushes to her head. She feels dizzy. She ignores the feeling, but chooses to exercise caution with getting up. She shifts positions slowly. She begins her morning routine. She wakes up the boys, and gets them dressed for school. She cooks them breakfast. The smell of scrambled eggs makes her queasy. She flips a pile onto Harmon's plate. The five year old looks up at her._

"_Mommy are you okay?"_

"_Yeah," she lies. _

_ She proceeds to drop the boys off at school. Before heading off to work she has to make a pit stop for JAG's required annual physical. She convinces herself that after some painless questions she will be free to move on with her day. Half an hour later she sits in the exam room. She blinks, and tries to refocus on the doctor's question. He repeats the question for her._

"_No," she shakes her head._

"_Are you sure?" He quizzes._

_She's in the middle of her work day when the phone rings. She's sitting at the desk when she picks up the phone. _

"_General MacKenzie," she answers. _

_Hours later she finds herself checking her watch over, and over again. She reminds herself that her boys will be getting home from school any minute. She swallows hard, and re-orients herself to her surroundings. She sits in the exam room, waiting on the physician to enter. Most of what he says goes in one ear, and out the other. _

"_Lie back," he instructs._

_She nods, and turns on autopilot._

"_General MacKenzie."_

_She stares up at the ceiling tiles. _

"_Mac! Did you hear me?" _

* * *

She swallows hard, and returns to her present. She looks reality in the face, and doesn't like what she sees staring back at her. She pulls at her shirt, but it falls back into its previous position. She groans in frustration. Before she can stop it, her hand falls onto her stomach.

* * *

"_What?" She finally makes eye contact._

"_Can you see?" _

_She nods subtly as all color drains from her face. "Yes."_

"_Are you okay?"_

"_No," she shakes her head._

_He sits her up, "Would you like to talk about it?"_

"_How the hell did this happen?"_

_He stares at her, completely dumbfounded._

"_I am forty eight years old," she reminds him. _

"_I know."_

"_This can't be happening," she argues._

"_I haven't completed the paperwork on your annual physical yet. If you would like me to exclude this…"_

"_I am a General in the United States Marine Corps, and the commander of JAG. I am widowed, and… the press would have a field day with this."_

"_What do you want me to do?"_

"_Shoot me," she answers._

"_I can't do that."_

"_How long does it take for the paperwork to be processed?"_

"_Usually it sits in a box in my office until everyone has completed their physicals. It usually takes a few months before anyone important reads it. You and I both know that due to the fact that you are not in combat I am not required to flag your report."_

"_I don't know how this happened."_

"_Life happens," he reminds her._

* * *

_She sits on the edge of her bathtub that evening after she's put the boys to bed. She's gone through her nightly ritual, but she knows going to bed will prove to be a fruitless effort. After several hours of internal debate she retires to bed. In the morning she drops the boys off at the sitter. She sits in the parking lot of a string of medical suites. The sun isn't even up yet. She feels guilt wash over her as she stares at the clock on the dash. She takes her key from the ignition, and inserts it into the glove compartment. She unlocks the box, and retrieves the images she stuffed inside it the previous day._

* * *

The sound of the heat pump kicking on brings her back to reality. She tries to ignore the reality of the situation, so she turns the TV back on. Hours later she passes out to the sound of an infomercial playing in the background.

She rises earlier than usual, without the assistance of an alarm. She gets dressed, and leaves the house in a cloud of anxiety. She enters the office right on time. She doesn't have to wait in the waiting room as she is the first appointment of the day. In fact the physician's office has opened specially for her. The physician himself ushers her into a room, where he proceeds to close the door. She stares at a poster on the wall, anxiously waiting for the appointment to be over.

"Mac?"

She makes eye contact with him, "Huh?"

"Do you want to undergo testing?"

"What would be the point? I've already made my decision."

"I would like to offer a tidbit of information that may make you feel a little better about your decision."

"I can't imagine anything that will make me feel better about my decision, other than retirement."

"I think I may know of something."

"I am too old to do this again."

"Are you having second thoughts?"

"Only every time I breathe," she answers, "How am I supposed to do this?"

He shrugs, "I can't answer that for you."

"I'm sorry. What were you trying to tell me?"

* * *

By the time she gets off work it is pouring rain. She races to her car, without paying much attention to her surroundings. She climbs into the car, and slams the door, locking it behind her. She puts the key in the ignition, proceeds to begin unbuttoning her uniform. She takes off her jacket, and places it on the seat next to her. For the first time all day she can feel as if she can breathe. Out of the corner of her eye she sees something in her rearview mirror.

"You really should check your back seat before climbing into your car."

She spins around, and looks at the occupant of her backseat with total disgust.

"How did you get in my car?"

"I have my ways."

"Remember how we discussed a restraining order?"

"Just hear me out."

"First things first, how did you squeeze into the backseat between two car seats?"

"It was not an easy task," he assures her.


	10. Red Light

"What are you doing in my car? I think that breaking and entering is crossing the line," she points out.

"Have you heard the latest scuttlebutt?"

"On what?"

"You."

"No," she shakes her head.

"I have."

"What's your source?"

"I can't reveal my sources."

"Why not?"

"Implicating them would…"

She cuts him off, "Open them up for criminal charges?"

"Yes," he confirms.

"Stalking is illegal."

"I am not stalking you. It is a matter of public record that you work for JAG. If I were stalking you I would show up unannounced at your home too."

"Tony you are crossing the line. This has got to stop."

"How long are you going to avoid me?"

"As long as I see fit."

"How long do you really think you can avoid the issue?"

"What issue?"

"Were you ever planning on telling me?"

"Telling you what?"

He slides over the console into the front seat. He looks over at her, but draws the line at invading her personal bubble.

"Have you ever heard of the term red light?" She questions.

He stares at her face for a few moments, but his glance falls from her face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what? There is nothing to tell."

"When we were at dinner the other day you had the opportunity, but you pushed me away. Why?"

"You don't want this. You told me that you didn't."

"So, that justifies your actions?"

"Yes," she nods.

"Did you ever intend on telling me?"

"No."

"Did you really think that I wouldn't find out?"

"I didn't think that it would matter," she responds.

"It matters to me. Don't you think that I have the right to know?"

She doesn't say anything.

"And how long do you really think that you can hide this from the USMC?"

"I applied for retirement," she answers.

"From a job that you live for?"

"It's just a job. I have other priorities, now."

"You mean, you have more priorities, now."

"Please don't do this," she begs."I am giving you an out. I suggest that you take it."

"Now you get to make decisions for me, too?" He responds.

"I am not making this decision for _you,_" she reminds him.

"It seems to me like you are," he argues.

"What about the decision that you made the night that we first met?" She replies.

"What decision?" He quizzes.

"The decision that got us here in the first place."

"What decision was that?" He arches an eyebrow.

"You know what, never mind."

"We are both adults, maybe we should stop trying to place blame," he argues.

"That is still up for debate, in my opinion."

"Why do you insist on pushing me away? I am not the bad guy here."

"Tony my life is complicated, and I can't pretend that I am ever going to be able to make you any sort of priority in my life. I would love for this end with a happily ever after, but that is not the way that the world works."

"I am not asking for happily ever after. All I am asking for is the truth."

"You don't want to know the truth," she insists.

He reaches over, and takes her hand, without permission. He looks her in the eyes, and squeezes her hand. "I sitting right here, just waiting for the truth."

She shakes her head, "I barely know you."

"Whose fault is that?"

She swallows hard, choking back tears, "Please don't makes this harder than it has to be," she begs.

"Tell me," he goads her.

"I wouldn't know where to begin."

"Why did you put in for retirement?"

"It is time. I have spent most of my life in uniform. It is time for a change."

"If approved when will your retirement become effective?"

"July, but I have an extensive amount of leave that I can take before then."

"You still didn't answer my question."

"I want to go out on a high note."

"Why would postponing your retirement prevent that?"

"You know why," she replies.

He shakes his head, "I don't know anything, because you have told me nothing."

"My life is about to become more complicated."

"How do you figure?"

"Can we talk about this later? I really need to get home."

"We need to talk about this. I think that it has waited long enough. Don't you?"

She shrugs, and breaks eye contact.

"I hope that you have bigger uniforms."

She doesn't take the bait. "I have already been approved for an extended leave starting January first."

"How long?"

"Six months."

"You will be on leave until the day that you retire?"

"I will return for two weeks to get the office in order," she answers.

"Two weeks? That seems a little bit ridiculous."

"It is what I have to do to collect my full benefits."

"Right," he nods.

"Is that all?" She queries, unlocking the door.

"No," he shakes his head, "answer my question, and I'll leave you alone, for now."

"At home numbers are increasing. I am, and will continue to be outnumbered for decades to come. It is physically impossible for me to be in two places at once, and there is really only one place that I want to be."

He scowls, "General."

"And for your information I had to reattach a button just this morning."


	11. Take It Out On Me

She gets home, and closes the door behind herself. She knows that she will have a ten minute reprieve before the boys get home. She slides down the door onto the floor. She draws her knees up, against her chest, and rests her head against the door. She sits on the hardwood floor on the verge of tears. She looks down at her growing stomach, and exhales. She shakes her head, and tries to stifle her tears.

"I'm sorry," she says with her eyes cast downwards.

Hours later she tiptoes down the hallway to Harmon's room. She pushes open the door which is already ajar. She steps inside the room, moving towards the bed. She stops at the bed, and finds her son nearly out of bed. He lies on his stomach with his left arm dangling over the side. She carefully puts his arm back in bed, and squats next to the bed. She presses her lips to his warm cheek. She turns to leave the room. She grabs a pile of dirty clothes off the floor on her way out. She places the pile outside the door, and moves on to the next room.

Reed's door is wide open. She steps inside, and finds the four year old with his lamp on. She moves towards him, and a pair of eyes greets her. She smiles, and slides into bed next to him. He lies on his back, with his head on his pillow with his eyes fixated on her. She wraps her arm around him, and squeezes him to her side.

"What are you doing up so late?"

"I was just thinking."

"Thinking always seems to get you in trouble."

"You shouldn't be alone," he tells her.

"Reed Rylan Rabb, I am not alone. I have you, and your brother."

"There is only one of you," he clarifies.

"Would you want two mommies?"

"No," he scowls.

"Then it's settled," she insists.

"No!" He raises his voice.

"Shh! You're going to wake your brother up," she warns him.

"Do you miss daddy?"

"Of course."

"He's never coming back," Reed reminds her.

She kisses the top of his head, "No, he's not."

"Will you be alone forever?"

"Reed, don't worry about me."

"I think it's time, mommy."

"Time for what, son?"

"I don't want you to be sad anymore," he explains.

"I'm not sad."

"What about Tony?"

She furrows her brow, "What about him?"

"He was nice."

"You're just saying that because he let you imprison him."

"I just tied him up a little bit," he defends himself.

"Tell it to the judge," she quips.

He giggles, "You are the judge."

She scrunches her nose, "Not quite."

"My judge."

"Reed you don't even know what a judge does."

"Bangs that hammer thing, and says 'Order. Order.' Right?"

"Where did you get that?"

"_Law And Order_."

"Where are you watching that?"

"Sometimes I wait until you fall asleep, and sneak downstairs to watch TV."

"That is why I find you on the couch some mornings?"

"Yes," he admits.

"I see."

"I like Tony."

"You already cast your vote in that matter," she reminds him.

He yawns, "Sorry, I'm sleepy."

"Then go to sleep," she suggests.

"Do you like him?"

"He's okay."

"You kissed him."

"That was your doing."

He leans his head against her stomach, and then frowns. He looks up at her, "Mom you're getting lumpy."

"Thank you, Reed."

"Was that mean?" He wonders.

"It's okay. Sometimes mommy's are lumpy."

He flips over onto his stomach. He puts his elbows on his mattress, and supports his head with one fist. He pokes her in the stomach through her t-shirt.

"Is there something in there?" He probes.

She takes a deep breath, and counts to ten before answering, "Why would you ask that?"

He shrugs, "We learned about kangaroos today in school."

"Oh?"

"They have pouches they keep their babies in. It makes them lumpy."

"Do you think that's why I'm lumpy?"

He shoots her a look, and responds dryly, "Mom there is not a kangaroo in there," he points to her stomach.

"I wouldn't know how a kangaroo would get in there."

He furrows his brow, "How does a baby kangaroo get in there?"

"I think that is a discussion for another day," she tries to stop the conversation in its tracks.

"How does a human baby get its mom?"

"Reed it is too late to discuss that tonight."

"I want to know."

"I will tell you."

"Now?"

"Later," she insists.

"When?"

"In about six to ten years."

"Mom!"

"Sorry, it doesn't make a good bedtime story."

"I have a good bedtime story," he grins.

"Tell me."

"Once upon a time," he begins, "you and Tony were kissing under the dining room table."

She rolls her eyes, "Reed, go to sleep."

"One more question," he begs.

"One more, and then you have to go to sleep."

"One more question, you tuck me in again, and I will sleep for seventeen days," he replies dramatically.

"I'll settle for seven or eight hours."

He nods in agreement.

"Go ahead," she insists.

"Are you going to marry him?"

"Who?" She purses her lips.

"Tony."

"Why would you ask that?"

"He makes you giggle."

She slips out of the bed. She tucks him back in, and plants a kiss on his forehead.

"Love you," she reminds him.

"Love you, too."

"Lieutenant would you like your nightlight out?"

"No General I have to keep it on to keep the enemy away."


	12. Til My Last Day

She enters her bedroom, and makes a beeline for her own bed. The lamp on the bedside stand is on. She considers picking up the book lying next to the lamp, instead she settles beneath the covers. She leans over, and flips off the light. She closes her eyes, expecting sleep to evade her. It doesn't. She awakens to someone jumping on her bed. The rippling movement causes her to feel nauseous. She opens her eyes, and finds Reed jumping.

"Reed!"

He jumps onto the bed, butt first.

"That is not acceptable."

"I'm sorry, I was just so excited."

"What time is it?"

"Oh-six hundred, ma'am."

"Reed, it is Saturday morning. Why are you awake at oh-six hundred? You didn't go to bed until twenty two-hundred last night."

"I figured it out," he grins from ear to ear.

"You did?"

"Yes," he nods as he crawls closer.

She tries to ignore the nausea as he lies down beside of her, on top of the covers.

"A girl kangaroo kisses a boy kangaroo, and that is how the baby gets inside of the pouch."

"I don't think so."

"Oh," he frowns, "It gets in there somehow."

"That isn't quite how," she reveals.

"Is it close?"

"Sort of," she nods.

"Good."

"Good? Why is that good?"

"You kissed Tony, and now…"

She cuts him off, "Reed that isn't how it works in people, either."

"So you're just fat?"

"Can we talk about this later?"

"Negative, General."

"You need to go back to sleep."

"I don't know if I can."

"Where did all of this energy come from?"

"I drank some mountain dew, and had some skittles this morning when I woke up to pee."

"Where did you get mountain dew, and skittles?"

"Next door?"

She furrows her brow, "They gave you mountain dew, and skittles?"

"I borrowed them," he explained.

"You can't borrow them if you already ingested them."

"Ingested? I don't know what that means."

"Ate."

"I'll poop it out."

"Reed go back to your room, and go to sleep."

"Why?"

"If you don't I am going to throw you in the brig."

"We don't have a brig," he reminds her.

"We do have a toy room that needs cleaned."

"I'll be good," he vows.

"Are you going back to bed?"

"Can I stay here with you?"

"No."

"Mommy, I'll lay real still," he promises.

"Really," she corrects him.

"Yes," he nods, "I promise, really."

"Will you be quiet?"

"In a minute."

"In a minute?"

"One more question."

"Reed!" She growls in frustration.

He points to her abdomen, through the covers, "If there isn't a kangaroo in there, what is in there?"

"Fat," she responds.

"Fat is squishy," he reminds her.

She regrets their summer excursion to the hands-on kids museum, "Reed go back to sleep."

"It's not squishy," he argues.

"I didn't hear a question in there."

"It's not nice to lie," he points out, "What's in there?"

"What do you want to be in there?"

He giggles, "Skittles, then I could eat your belly meat."

"Then, they're skittles."

"Skittles are chewy. Your belly doesn't look chewy."

"If you don't go back to sleep I am going to sell you to the gypsies."

"What is a gypsy?"

"Reed, please," she begs.

"Just tell me," he whines.

"I told you. None of my answers made you happy."

"Is there a non-kangaroo baby in there?"

She smirks, "There is a chicken in there."

"Mom, chickens come from eggs," he replies, matter-of-factly.

"How did you get so smart?"

He shrugs, "T.V., I guess."

"You don't watch that much television."

"Is it human?"

"Are you human? Maybe you are an alien boy."

"No, I'm not!"

"This is not twenty questions," she reminds him.

"I don't know what that is."

"Go back to sleep."

"I can't, not until you answer my question."

"Would you want to something of the human variety to be in there?"

He looks at her pensively, "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"It would need a daddy, wouldn't it?"

"Reed if you go to sleep in the next five minutes I'll make your brother clean up the play room."

"You've got a deal," he gives up.

She waits until he falls asleep. She slips out of bed, and grabs her phone off the bedside stand. She checks in on Harmon on her way towards the stair case. She heads down the stairs into the kitchen. She takes a seat at the island, on a barstool. She pulls out her phone, and dials a number. She expects to receive no answer at such an early hour. She considers hanging up after the second ring.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end answers.

"Are you free this morning?"

"Yeah," he answers.

"I'll see you at oh nine hundred."

"Where?"

"I'll text you details," she replies, hanging up.

She places the phone on the counter, in front of her. She slides off the barstool, and proceeds to make a beeline for the half bathroom under the stairs. She pulls the door closed behind her as she pushes her hair out of the way. She rockets forward, lifting the toilet seat lid just in time. She hits her knees, and finds herself in a puddle of stale urine. The joys of having son's she reminds herself. She tries to ignore her feeling of irritation as she has violent episodes of emesis. She hugs the cold, white, porcelain bowl, in defeat.


	13. Meet Me In The Middle

He takes a seat next to her on a park bench. It's barely eight thirty, and already both of her boys are bright eyed, and bushy tailed. The two of them run around the playground equipment in their coats. Luckily there is no snow on the ground, so the two boys proceed to run around like terrorists. In fact for a morning in early December the temperature is rather mild at a bold forty seven degrees. He holds two cups. He offers one to her. She slips her hands out of her pocket, and retrieves the cup from his hand, and looks at him graciously.

"Thank you, but I don't drink coffee," she begins.

"You are a tea drinker," he points out.

"Yeah," she nods in surprise.

"It's neither," he reveals.

She shoots him a questioning look, "So what is it? A cup of cyanide?"

"Hot chocolate."

"Oh," she flips the top open. The steam pours out of the cup. The scent hits her nose. She begins to turn green around the gills. Tony quickly picks up on this transition.

"Boys," he calls out.

Harmon, and Reed run towards him at lightening speeds. He grabs the general's hot chocolate.

"I brought you cocoa. Why don't the two of you find a place to drink it over there, so your mom and I can chat?"

"Okay," Reed agrees, speaking up for the both of them. They each take a cup, and scamper off to the swings.

"I'm sorry. It was a sweet gesture."

"I didn't know they were going to be here," he admits.

"They overheard me say something about the park, and they insisted on coming, despite the fact that it is really too cold for them to be out."

He furrows his brow, "I think that they will be okay. They look as if they have fourteen layers a piece on, and it's not even that cold. I am surprised that you can convince them to keep their hats, and gloves on."

"As a single parent you learn to use all of the tools at your disposal, even if that tool is bribery."

"What do they earn?"

"Good behavior, and leaving all of their clothing on buys me a trip to the toy store."

"I don't know if you know this about me, but…"

She cuts him off, "You like going to the toy store?" She guesses.

"Yeah."

"Not that kind of toy store."

He furrows his brow, "General! Get you mind out of the gutter. I was being genuine."

"It's hard to tell with you sometimes."

"I was surprised that you agreed to meet me."

"You were right," she replies.

"I was?" He responds with a look of disbelief that she would willingly admit such a thing.

"I can't do this on my own. I am not getting any younger, and let's face it I am already outnumbered."

"You are asking for my assistance."

"I am giving you permission to be present."

"What does that mean?"

"I have to interest in pursuing a relationship with you. I have enough on my plate right now."

"What does permission to be present mean?"

"Consistently present."

"Whenever I want?"

She shakes her head, "No. It will not be only when it is convenient for you. It has to be convenient for me too. Beyond that it has to be on someone else's terms."

He studies her facial expression, "You're still in denial, aren't you?"

She takes a deep breath before she responds, allowing herself time to formulate an intelligent response, "I know that it's real, but I can't bring myself to say those words. It's as if saying it makes it more real, and I don't know if I'm ready for it to be real."

"I don't think that you have much of a choice. It's starting to look real."

"I know," she doesn't break eye contact.

"How will this work?"

"With ground rules."

"For example?"

"You can't show up unannounced."

"That is fair," he agrees.

"That is the main thing, for now."

"I've never done this before," he reminds her.

"I just need your word that you aren't going to back out of this commitment. This is a much larger than even a marriage. If you don't see eye to eye you can't just get divorced."

"I understand that."

"And you are certain that you are ready for that?"

"I am certain that no one ever is, but I will honor my commitments."

"Fair enough. Anything that you want to add?"

"Stop pushing me away."

"I can try."

"I don't want to be the guy who visits on the weekend, and every other holiday. I want to be involved, starting now."

She nods in understanding, "I have a doctor's appointment on the twenty ninth if you would like to come."

"I would," he agrees. He doesn't take his eyes off of her.

"Is there something else?"

"I don't know how communication between us is going to work when we know so little about each other."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I just want to get to know you, and your boys."

"I don't want them to get the wrong impression."

"How are you going to explain this to them?"

She shrugs, "I am open to suggestion."

"When are you going to tell them?"

"I think it is going to have to be soon. Reed is already starting to ask questions."

"Reed is the younger of the two?"

"People are always amazed by that."

"Harmon doesn't talk nearly as much."

"Reed is far more outgoing. Harmon tends to sit back, and observe. He is definitely not as vocal as his brother. They have always been that way. Reed came out screaming at the top of his lungs, and didn't stop for the first six months. Harmon was always quiet, and pensive, even as a newborn."

"What happened after the first six months?"

"Reed realized that he had a voice. One day they were in the living room taking naps, and I was in the laundry room. I heard someone screaming da-da, at the top of their lungs. I went into the living room, because I thought something was wrong with Harmon. He was sound asleep. It was Reed. Their dad wasn't home from work yet. Reed laid back down, and I headed back to the laundry room. It wasn't five minutes later he started yelling for me."

"That isn't normal is it?"

She shakes her head, "No. I love the both of them, but I never claimed either one of them were normal."

"Do they usually learn two words at a time?"

"No. Reed is anything but typical. He had the vocabulary of a pre-schooler by the time he was eighteen months old. At eighteen months old he still wasn't walking, so I was concerned. He army crawled anywhere he wanted to go. The doctor asked him why he wasn't walking."

"What did he say?"

"'I don't wanna,' were his exact words."

"When did he start walking?"

"That day," she smirks.


	14. Sunshine And Whiskey

"I usually don't like kids," he admits.

"So I've heard."

"However, I think your kids are completely fascinating."

"And why is that?"

"The incessant talking reminds me of myself as a child."

"I can't imagine you were a chatty kid," she responds sarcastically.

"And being obsessed with everything that John Wayne ever did, that was also part of my childhood."

"You didn't grow up to be a cowboy."

"You should see me in a cowboy hat," he teases.

"I can't imagine that you would mess up your hair for a cowboy hat."

"You know I love everything about being a cowboy except…"

"Except what?"

"I hate horses. When I discovered that my cowboy phase quickly came to an end."

"I couldn't get so lucky."

"What's wrong with him wanting to be a cowboy?"

"Someone very kindly got him a pair of cowboy boots for his birthday."

"Again what is wrong with that?"

"About the fifteenth time you trip over a pair of steel-toed cowboy boots you'll understand."

"It can't be that bad," he argues.

"I almost fell down the stairs once because my son decided that it would be a good idea to relocate his rocking horse into the hallway."

"I can see where that might be a hazard to your health."

"After Sunny went out to pasture he is better about keep his stuff out of the hallway."

"You got rid of his toy horse?"

"He was too big for it anyway."

"I remember that legos were always the worst. I only forgot to put mine away once as a child. I stepped on them in the middle of the night, and I learned rather quickly why I was supposed to put them away."

"Try a lego fortress with army men, helicopters, tanks, and firetrucks in the bathroom."

"What's wrong with that?"

"My bathroom is not a playground. It is the one room in the house that I get to have a moment to myself."

"I am sure they cleaned it up."

"They were in the bathtub, they all drowned."

"General…"

"Sarah," she corrects him.

"Ma'am," he counters.

"Mac," she suggests.

"Mac, may I make an observation?"

"Of course."

"Your boys need a father."

"They had a great one."

"They're so young they still need a father figure, don't you think?"

"I don't see anyone volunteering for the job."

"I know that I'll never fill their dad's shoes, but I would love to fill in from time to time."

"Why would you volunteer to do that?"

"Because they are great kids, and I…"

"You love to torment me?"

"My mother died when I was young, and after that I never really felt like part of a family."

"So this is for you?"

He shrugs, "For the first time, since then I felt like part of a family that night that I was held hostage in your dining room. Also I would like to add that your boys love me."

"Because you're at their level."

"I resent that."

"If you would like to fill in on occasion I am okay with that, as long as you are consistent," she agrees.

"You know there are some things you just can't talk to your mother about."

"That is true."

"Can I ask you something else?"

"You do sound like Reed."

He rolls his eyes and continues with his question, "What were you doing at that bar?"

Her smile fades. Several moments of silence pass before she answers. "It's complicated," she admits.

"So simplify it."

"I am an alcoholic."

"That's kind of like being a Marine, right? No matter what, you always are."

"Yeah," she nods.

"So what were you doing at that bar?"

"Some days still feel like my first day sober," she answers.

"Enlighten me."

* * *

_She steps off the ship onto dry land. She makes a beeline for her car. She drives home to an empty house. Her sons are next door, with Harriet, sound asleep. She knows that there is no point in retrieving them, as her return will make them beyond controllable. She decides to let them sleep, and collect them in the morning. She ditches her uniform, and opts for some street clothes. She stands in the fridge for several moments. She stares at the contents. A bottle of ketchup, and a can of Ginger Ale. _

_ She slams the door shut, and for a moments she thinks, 'All I want is a shot of Grey Goose'. After countless hours away from her sons her mission hit a dead end. All of that time away from them, suddenly unjustifiable. She leans against the counter feeling like a failure. A failure as a mother, and as a marine. The feeling gnaws at her until she reaches for her car keys. _

_ It has been years since she's been to a meeting. She pulls out of the drive knowing that she needs to go. She drives past the church, and heads straight to the bar. The last time she felt this badly Bud had to drag her out of the bar against her will. Two days after burying Harm, and then it all seemed like too much. It was too much to raise two sons by herself. All of it was more than she could take. It was the closet she had come so far to blowing her sobriety. _

_ He takes a seat at the bar. The bartender approaches her. He smiles kindly. _

"_What will it be?"_

_She glances at the liquor bottles on the shelf behind the bartender. She surveys her options. She decides that if she is going to put it all on the line she is going to drink until she doesn't feel anything. He nods, and turns around to grab the bourbon off the shelf. It slips from his hand, and hits the floor shattering into a million pieces. She sighs in frustration, and pulls out her wallet to retrieve her credit card in order to open a tab. As she flips the wallet open she sees a picture of her sons. She swallows hard as the guilt hits her, and a lump begins to form in her throat. The bartender cleans up the broken glass. _

"_On second thought just make it a Ginger Ale."_


	15. Every Storm

"So you changed your mind about blowing your sobriety that night?"

"After my second Ginger Ale I changed my mind about that. I decided that I would beg for forgiveness in the morning. I was going to order a stiff drink when the bar tender got pulled away. I was going to drink until I didn't feel anything anymore. I was at a low point. I had already justified it. No one had to know. I would go to a meeting in the morning, and all would be forgiven."

"What happened to that plan?"

"You walked in, and wrecked my plans."

He grins, "I'm sorry."

"You saved me from myself."

"I didn't save you," he argues.

"If I had taken one drink I wouldn't have been able to stop there. I would have gone on a month long bender, and ruined everything in my life. I would have lost my job, and my kids, and demolished my sobriety. It wouldn't have been worth it."

"You would have regretted it."

"Of course I would have, that is what being an alcoholic is about. You ignore your feelings until the only thing that you feel can silence them is a bottle. When the alcohol wears off you beg for forgiveness, and try to reverse the damage you've done."

"That's the closest that you've ever come recently?"

"Yeah," she nods, "The following morning I went to a meeting, and then went to pick up the boys."

"It seems as if I was just a diversional activity to get your mind off whatever was driving you to want to drink."

"Maybe," she doesn't disagree.

"I guess that I am glad to know that I was of assistance."

"You, and your super sperm. Now my diversional activity has morphed into another human being."

"I get the sense that you're still a little pissed at me for that."

"Equally as much as I am pissed at myself. We're both adults. I should have known that it was possibility. I just didn't consider the possibility that I would manage to get knocked up at forty eight years old."

"It sounds so eloquent when you say it."

"It sounds ridiculous no matter who says it. I am forty eight years old. I am a General, a marine, and a single mother of two. The mere idea of me being pregnant is completely, and totally ludicrous."

"You call it ludicrous, I call it a baby."

"I call it insanity."

"How do you think the boys are going to react?"

She shrugs, "I can't even worry about that, because I don't know how to tell them. Reed will ask a million question, and I don't know how to answer them. I don't have any idea how to explain it to him. They are four, and five."

"I suggest that you keep it simple."

"Harmon will be fine with that."

"And Reed?"

"Will want to know every single detail. How did it get there? Who put it there? When is it coming out? He will go on, and on until I am ready to scream."

Tony looks up, "Speak of the devil," he points as Reed approaches them.

"Mommy, can we go? We're getting hungry."

Before she can respond Tony jumps in, "I bet your mom has a million errands to run. What if I take you to get pancakes, and then we can go to the toy store after that? Would that be okay?"

Reed smiles, "You have to ask the boss."

Sarah nods, "No whipped cream," she warns.

Harmon joins them. "Hi, Tony," he greets.

"Harmon do you like pancakes?"

The five year old nods, "Only if they come with syrup," he grins.

He's sitting at a pancake house with a four, and five year old. He watches them in amazement as they carefully cut each bite of pancake, and wipe their mouths like civilized young men. He takes a drink, and grins. He sits on one side of the table, and the boys sit on the other.

"How are your pancakes?" He asks the older boy.

Harmon furrows his brow, and doesn't make eye contact. He looks out the window. Reed glances up at Tony, and then elbows his brother in the side. Harmon turns towards Reed with a look of disgust.

"Did you hear him?" Reed questions.

"Tony," Harmon responds motioning to the window.

Tony glances out the window, trying to follow Harmon's line of sight. Tony looks past the cars parked on the street towards the building on the other side. He sees a man walking out of the building with a semi-automatic weapon in his belt. He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out what appears to be a car remote. He clicks a button, and the three of them watch in horror as a flame ignites in the building. They feel a vibration coming from across the street. The man tucks the remote back in his pocket, and without a moment's notice he is staring right at Harmon. Without a single word Harmon disappears under the table. Tony doesn't miss a beat.

He pulls money out of his pocket, and places it on the table as they assailant grows closer.

"Boys I need you to go behind the counter, and head into the kitchen we are going out the back."

The boys don't question him. The three of them slide out of the booth, and make a beeline for the kitchen. As they approach the door Harmon stops dead.

"He saw me."

Tony doesn't say a single word. He lifts the five year old onto his hip, and continues towards the door. Reed stays directly at his three o'clock matching every step. They exit the building, and head into the alley. Tony surveys their surroundings. They quickly, and cautiously head towards the entrance of the alley. Just before they reach the street they find the assailant disappearing into the pancake house. Tony races to the car, by this point he has a boy on each hip. He tosses them into the back of his car, and locks the door. He hears their seatbelts click as he starts the car. He glances in his rearview, and then pulls away from the curb.

A hundred yards away they reach the stop sign. Reed sits behind Tony, and Harmon sits in the middle. Reed glances out his window.

"Tony, go!"

Tony peeks out his own window, and sees what the four year old sees. A second man exits the building with an automatic weapon on his belt, and a remote in his hand. Tony's eyes shift forward. There is no oncoming traffic. He speeds away from the block they're on. He grabs his cell phone off his belt, and tosses it into the backseat to Harmon.

"I need you to hit number one on the phone, and put it on speaker," he instructs.

Harmon nods, and follows his direction. Reed speaks as the phone rings.

"Tony, were they terrorists?"

Before he can answer a loud explosion from behind them rocks the car.


	16. Let It Rain

"Gibbs," the voice on the other end responds.

"Boss I've got a problem."

"DiNozzo it is Saturday," he points out.

"I think that I just witnessed a pair of terrorists annihilate a ten story office building."

"Why didn't you try to stop them?"

"I have General MacKenzie's boys with me. We are several blocks away now."

"Take them home. If what you're saying is true I'll be getting a call any minute."

"You want me to join you once I get them home?"

"What do you think?"

"Gibbs, one of them saw us."

"The terrorists?"

"They looked right at Harmon."

Tony hears a seatbelt come undone. He glances in the rearview, and sees Reed peering out the back window.

"Reed, sit down," he chides.

The four year old returns to his seat, and buckles his belt.

"But, Tony."

"You can't do that," Tony points out.

"We're being followed."

"Boss, I've got to go."

"DiNozzo lose whoever is on your tail. Get General MacKenzie, and switch out vehicles. Take her, and the boys somewhere safe."

"I am running low on ammunition."

"The General is a Marine, I am sure that she is prepared for any scenario."

Gibbs disconnects, and Tony begins rounding corners, and increasing speed. Within a couple of minutes he manages to lose the tail. He continues to use a covert route, and heads towards Sarah's.

"Boys are you okay?"

"I sent mom a text, and told her to be ready."

"Thank you Harmon. Reed you still back there?"

"Tony he looked my brother in the eye," he answers.

By the time that Tony pulls into Sarah's driveway her car is already backed out of the garage. She stands next to the Jeep, and motions for him to pull his in. He puts the car in park, and the boys jump out. They grab their seats, and quickly move towards Sarah's vehicle.

"Do you have your phone?" She questions.

He shakes his head, "You?"

"Everything that we need is in the back."

He nods, "I should drive. I know the location to a safe house nearby."

"I'll drive. They saw your plates, didn't they?"

"Yeah," he nods.

She gets into the driver's seat. He jumps into the passenger's seat. She's out of the driveway before his seat is buckled.

"What happened?" She questions, never taking her eyes off the road.

"Harmon saw a guy walking out of the building from across the street."

"He had an AK-47," Reed adds.

"He pulled a remote out of his pocket," Harmon continues.

"So it was an act of terrorism?" Sarah questions.

DiNozzo nods, "The sixth floor of that building is home to a security firm."

"Oh."

"Where are we going?" He questions.

She smirks, "I'll let you know when we get there."

"I see that you have a contingency plan," he comments.

"I am always ready. Supplies are always stocked. Bags are always ready to go."

"Even for the boys?"

"I update them as they grow out of their clothes."

"And you've gone over the plans with them?"

She nods, "We've had drills."

"How long until we get to our destination?" He queries.

"The boys should have a good nap by the time that we get there."

He turns, and looks in the back seat. He finds the boys with headphones on watching TV in the back.

"What are they watching?"

"_The Wings Of Eagles_."

"The John Wayne movie?"

She nods, "One is obsessed with John Wayne, and the other is obsessed with anything related to the military. Either way I win."

"So they'll be this quiet for the rest of the ride?"

"Once it's over they'll fall asleep. They will wake up about twenty minutes before we arrive, because they're hungry."

"How do you get them to behave so well?"

"Luck, and lots of practice."

"Is there an extra set of headphones?"

She smiles, and nods. He takes his belt off, and climbs into the backseat between the two boys. Without a single word Reed digs into the seatback pocket, and fishes out a pair of headphones. He hands them to Tony who connects them. He leans back, and enjoys the movie.

The next thing he knows he's waking up to the sound of a slamming car door. He opens his eyes, and finds himself somewhere in the Appalachian Mountains. He looks at the farm house in front of him, and quickly realizes that it's well into afternoon, and he has been asleep for sometime. He unfastens Harmon's seat belt. Harmon is sound asleep to the right of him. He lifts the boy out of his seat, and proceeds to exit the car. He finds Mac standing at the rear of the vehicle with the hatch open. She tosses him a set of keys.

"Just lay him on the couch."

Tony heads towards the house. He unlocks the door, and proceeds to lay Harmon on the couch. He leaves the door open, and returns for Reed. By the time he gets back to the car Reed is awake. He heads to the rear of the car. Reed slings his bag over his shoulder, and runs past Tony.

Tony peers into the back of the vehicle, and finds two remaining bags. Mac has already retrieved one, and is heading towards the cabin. Tony collects the other two bags, and carries them into the house.

"Stay with the boys, I am going to put the car in the barn."

"Okay," he agrees.


	17. Already There

By the time she returns Harmon is awake. Tony's head fills with questions as she enters the room, closing, and locking the door behind her.

"Mom are we going downstairs?"

"Yes," she nods.

The boys proceed to grab their bags. Mac leads the way to the stair case. Tony follows behind her with a bag slung over his shoulder. They head down the stairs into the basement. Upon entering the basement Tony looks around. Mac has already turned the light on. The basement is mostly bare. It has cinderblock walls just as one would expect. There is a shelf of canned goods on the wall facing the staircase. The setup is not at all what he expected. Mac, and the boys move to the right of the staircase in the direction of the adjacent wall. Tony follows them to a bookshelf. Mac stops at the bookshelf.

"We're going to stay down here?" he questions.

She doesn't respond. She takes a large encyclopedia off the second shelf. She reaches her hand into the empty space, and he hears her finger hitting buttons. She steps back, and the bookshelf swings towards her. She returns the book, and leads the group to an open door. The four of them enter the room. The door swings closed behind them. Mac pushes numbers on a keypad to a door in front of her. It swings open. Her sons follow her down another flight of stairs, without question. As Tony reaches the bottom stair the door at the top of the staircase swings closed. He stops at the bottom of the staircase, and surveys his surroundings.

To his right there is a kitchen. To his left a wall, with two doors. He turns right. He steps into the kitchen. Off the kitchen is a living room with a couch, a couple of chairs, and a TV. On the wall parallel to the kitchen wall is another door. The boys lean against the couch awaiting further instruction.

"Boys go ahead and put your stuff away, please."

The boys nod, and carry their bags towards the wall to the left of the stairs. Reed opens the first door, and they both disappear inside.

Tony sets his bag on the floor, and shoots Sarah a questioning look. He glances downward at his bag for a moment, and then his eyes fall on her face.

"Why do you have four bags?"

She swallows hard, "I could never bring myself to unpack Harm's bag. Today when I got that text message I grabbed it. I thought that I might as well, since you were going to have to come with us."

"I should call Gibbs."

"I called while you were asleep in the car."

"What did he say?"

"To stay off the grid. They identified the group of terrorists responsible."

"They are that dangerous?"

"By the time that he arrived at my house they had already been there."

"They did follow us?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"We have never managed to identify the leader of the group."

"You don't know which one is the leader?"

"No one has ever lived long enough to give us a description."

"Does he have a name?"

"They call him Haidar."

"Is that significant?"

"We don't think that it is his real name. It means lion."

"Of course it does," he growls, "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"Where are we?"

"Home," she grins.

"What is our location?"

"Bland County Virginia."

"Why do you have a bunker in Bland County Virginia?"

"My husband went on this doomsday prepper kick when I got pregnant for Harmon. He wanted to be certain that we could survive any threat, include a zombie apocalypse."

"Really?"

"Okay, he never mentioned the zombie apocalypse."

"But he built a bunker?"

She shakes her head, "Actually no, it was already here. During prohibition they used this bunker to hide their moonshine."

"So it was all already here?"

"Yes. He just did some remodeling, and some modifications."

"How did you stumble upon this?"

"He thought that this area would be great for a safe house because of the rough terrain, and the heavy foliage."

"He wasn't wrong."

"The house hadn't been lived in for years. The original owner's son gave him a tour. They got into the basement, and Harm mentioned something about the far wall looking abnormal. That was when the son remembered that his dad had a bunker to hide his moonshine."

"What is in my bag?"

"Clothes."

"I thought you said that you had supplies."

She smirks, "They're here."

"What about weapons?"

She points to a closet behind them, which is located under the stairs. He walks across the basement to the closet. He opens the door, and furrows his brow when he finds nothing but cleaning supplies.

"A mop is not considered a weapon."

"Is that closet as big as you would expect it?"

He steps inside the closet. He takes the bucket, mop, and broom out. He pushes on the back wall. It gives way, and he finds himself surrounded by weapons, and ammunition. He steps back, and closes the door. He returns the cleaning supplies to the closet, and re-joins her.

By the time they make it back to the living room the boys are on the couch waiting for them.

"Boys are you getting hungry?" Sarah questions.

"Extremely," Harmon admits, speaking for the pair on a rare occasion.

"I'll make lunch," she turns and heads for the kitchen.

Tony squeezes onto the couch between the two boys. They flip on the TV, and begin to watch whatever movie is inside the DVD player.

Sarah stands in the kitchen slathering peanut butter onto a slice of bread. The living room is to her right. She places the piece of bread on a plate, and glances over at the three male subjects sitting on the couch. The three of them smile, and laugh as they watch _The Three Stooges_. She rolls her eyes at how easily they are entertained. She silently gives thanks for getting stuck with the three of them, instead of some of the alternatives.


	18. Must Be Doing Something Right

Hours later it's dark outside. The communication from the outside world has been non-existent since their arrival at the compound. Sarah kisses Harmon's cheek as he settles into the top bunk. She bends down, and finds Reed waiting on her, expectantly.

"Mom?"

"Tomorrow," she tells him.

"You don't even know what I was going to ask," he argues, as if he's a litigator.

She kisses his cheek, and tucks him in.

"Goodnight boys," she whispers as she heads for the door. She flips off the light, and exits the room. She quietly closes the door behind her.

She walks past the staircase, towards the living room. She's recently showered, and her hair is still wet. She wears a Navy t-shirt, and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. She rounds the corner into the living room, and finds Tony making a nest on the couch. She watches him in silence, for a moment, as he spreads his covers over the couch. She smirks, and steps forward. He glances in her direction, acknowledging her presence.

"Something funny, General?"

"There is a revolutionary new product called a pull out couch. If you remove the cushions you can actually pull out a bed, and sleep on it."

He grins, "You never told me that it was a pull out."

"I just assumed that you would check."

"Never assume anything."

She momentarily breaks eye contact, and allows her eyes to fall on her stomach, "Of course not."

"I'll be done in just a minute. I was hoping to talk to you before you go to bed."

"The pull out is incredibly uncomfortable," she reveals.

"Thank you for that great insight, however the couch is not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"I figured as much."

He points to the couch, "Why don't you have a seat?"

She walks past the couch to her room.

"I am going to bed."

"Sarah…" he tries to reason with her.

"If you want to talk to me, I'll be in bed," she tells him as she pushes the door open.

He stands there, for several seconds, just staring at the door. He exhales, and moves towards the door. He pushes the door open, and steps inside. He finds the room illuminated by a lamp on a bedside stand on the right side of the bed. The head of the bed is against the wall to the left of the door. The foot of the bed faces the closet, which is on the parallel wall, to the right of the hatch. He watches her, in silence as she turns down the king sized bed. She climbs into bed, and shoots him a glance.

"Something you wanted to talk about?"

"Never mind."

She purses her lips, "Tony, we are both adults. The couch is not the least bit comfortable. I am not entirely opposed to you sleeping in here."

"What does that mean?"

"You can sleep in here if you stay on your side of the bed."

"You're on my side of the bed," he argues.

"If you stay on that side of the bed," she points, laying down the ground rules.

He nods, and walks around the end of the bed. He climbs underneath the covers, and lies down beside her. She flips off the light.

"What made you come to this decision?"

"To let you sleep in here?"

"No," he rolls onto his side, to face her.

"What decision?"

"To keep the baby. You didn't have to choose that. It wouldn't have been easier all the way around if you chose not to have it."

"Is that what you would have preferred?"

"No. I never said that," he points out.

"What are you really asking me?"

"All of those things that you listed off before, all of them are true. You're age, your rank, the fact that you're in the Marines. You are a single parent of two small children, already. What made you decide that you wanted to take this on?"

"I am not going to tell you that it as an easy decision to make. I won't tell you that I knew exactly what I wanted to do the moment that I found out, because quite frankly, I didn't. After a lot of thought, and deliberation I decided that it was the right thing to do."

"Even thought it was the hardest?"

"I am a marine. My training taught me not to run from a challenge," she points out.

"How long do you think we're going to be here in this bunker?"

"I am sure that Gibbs will have this all sorted out in a couple of days, and we can go back to our everyday life."

"I doubt that."

"Which part?"

"I doubt that we will be able to go back to everyday life."

"What makes you say that?"

"You have your life, and I have mine."

"What is your point, Tony?" She quizzes.

"We have created another life. For the rest of our lives we are somehow bound together by that fact. Whether or not we are together, we are both obligated to that human being for the rest of our lives."

"And they said that you were afraid of commitment."

"Sarah," he whispers.

"Hm?" She responds.

"How are we going to make this work?"

"Go to sleep," she responds.

He relents, and rolls in the other direction. She lies on her side, staring at the back of his head. Silently, she wonders the same thing. She tries to shake the thought, and she rolls onto her other side. She takes a moment to get situated. Her hand ends up underneath her stomach, as if she's cradling her unborn child. She pulls the covers up, and closes her eyes, in an attempt to sleep. As she listens to the silence that surrounds her she can't help but be consumed by the thought of how to make this work. Not for her, but for her child, their child. Sleep comes far sooner than any semblance of an answer.

Three days later they are still underground. Mac wakes up to an empty bed. She shoves the covers aside, and rolls out of bed. She heads for the door. She pushes the hatch open, and steps into the living room. She finds that the living room is illuminated only by the light of the television. Tony lies on the couch. Reed lies at his feet snuggled up under an orange Tony The Tiger fleece blanket, watching cartoons. She stops at the end of the couch, where Tony rests his head against the arm. She finds Harmon lying against his chest, sound asleep.


	19. Little Moments

She clears her throat, and Tony tips his head backwards. He looks up at her. She moves towards the coffee table, and carefully lowers herself onto its surface. She smirks, and breaks the silence.

"It looks as if you were ambushed."

"No," he shakes his head, "I came out here to get a drink of water. I heard Harmon screaming, so I went to check on him. He was having a nightmare. I scooped him up, and brought him in here to watch cartoons. He eventually fell back to sleep. Reed woke up shortly after that, and joined us to watch cartoons."

"You could have come and got me."

"I have it under control."

Sarah shifts her weight onto her feet. She moves towards the couch. She picks Reed up, and burrows into the open space on the couch, with him on her lap.

"Mac it's been three days, and we haven't heard anything."

"I know."

"What time is it?" He questions.

"Eastern or Zulu?"

"Eastern," he clarifies.

"Oh seven twenty three."

"How do you know without looking at a watch?"

She shrugs, "It's a gift."

"I think that we should try to make contact, and see what's going on."

"Okay," she nods in agreement, "but you won't be able to make contact from here. You'll have to go outside."

"Okay," he agrees, shifting forward. Harmon wraps his arm around his neck.

The five year old's eyes pop open.

"Hey buddy, why don't you stay here with your mom?"

"I want to go with you."

"I think that you should stay down here."

"No," he shakes his head.

Tony shoots the general a look. She nods. Tony rises from the couch, and proceeds to grab a phone, and a weapon with Harmon on his back. They climb the stairs to the basement. Tony cautiously pushes the door open. A few more paces, and the door closes behind them. He pushes a code, and steps through another door. The basement is empty, as expected. He slowly surveys the surroundings, and heads the stair case. He climbs the second staircase, with Harmon still riding piggyback.

They reach the ground floor. The only light, is that streaming in from the window from the sun. He places Harmon on the ground. Harmon stays close, as DiNozzo waves the flip phone in the air, in an attempt to get service.

"We have to go outside," Harmon informs him.

"We don't know how safe it is out there."

"To get service," Harmon clarifies.

Tony nods, and offers the kindergartener his hand. They proceed to the front door. Tony presses his palm against Harmon's chest as they reach the threshold, signaling for him to wait. Once he's certain that the area is clear he calls for the boy. The two of them take a seat on the porch swing. Tony quickly dials Gibbs' number.

* * *

Gibbs pulls the phone from his pocket. He doesn't recognize the number. He flips the phone open, and answers immediately.

"Gibbs," he responds.

"Boss."

"Are you safe?" He cuts to the chase.

"Yes."

"All of you."

"Yes. Did you capture the terrorists?"

"No."

"Not yet."

"We have lost their trail."

"How do you want me to proceed?"

"Stay put. We have no reason to believe that they know where you are."

"Do you know where I am?"

"No, and it's better that way. I need you to stay hidden."

"For how long?"

"Until further notice."

"A few more days?"

"As long as it takes to ensure your safety."

"Boss I need to end this."

"You have other priorities. I will end this," Gibbs orders.

"But…" he tries to argue.

"No argument. I will contact you with updates."

"I don't have service."

"I'll call you tomorrow at nineteen hundred."

"And after that?"

"Tony we know that the people responsible for the bombing are home grown. We also know that they have hacked into your financials as well as general MacKenzie's. We also know that they have done deed searches for three states for the both of you."

"Anything?"

"No. Just stay alert," he hangs up the phone.

DiNozzo closes the phone, and returns it to his pocket. He looks over at Harmon, who sits on the porch swing backwards, on his knees. He faces the back of the porch. He stares towards the barn. Tony taps him on the arm.

"Inside," he instructs.

Harmon nods, and follows him back into the house. They lock the door, and make a beeline for the basement. Once secured in the basement Tony turns to Harmon.

"You okay champ?"

"Yes, sir," he nods respectfully.

"Are you scared?"

The five year old peers up at him with a guilty look on his face, "What if they come after us?"

"I won't let anyone hurt you."

"Okay," he responds, only half-convinced.

DiNozzo stops in front of the bookshelf. He drops into a squatting position, so he can meet the boy at his level.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he fibs.

"You can talk to me. What's on your mind?"

"My dad died."

Tony nods, "I know."

"I was there."

Tony furrows his brow, "Excuse me?"

"I was in the backseat," he explains.

"Oh."

"I was asleep during the accident."

"When did you wake up?"

"When the car was on fire," he reveals.

"You were really young. Do you remember?"

"It smelled like aviation fuel."

"That's it?"

"I screamed for him, but he didn't answer."

"Then what?"

"Someone pulled me out of the car."

"Does your mom know this?"

He shakes his head shamefully, "I never told her."

"It's okay to be sad, and it's okay to be scared. It's okay to be angry, too."

"They're probably waiting on us," Harmon points out.

Tony nods, and scoops the boy up off the floor. They proceed through the hidden door towards the bunker. Once at the bottom of the stairs Tony places Harmon on the floor. They join Sarah, and Reed at the kitchen table.

After breakfast the boys run off to their room to play. Sarah empties the dirty dishes into the sink. Tony watches her for a moment, as she stands in front of the sink filling it with warm, soapy water. He joins her at the sink, stopping right next to her.

"I can do the dishes."

"I've got it," she argues.

"I don't mind," he insists.

"I appreciate you trying to help," she begins.

He cuts her off, "But you don't want my help?"

"It is challenging for me to do nothing."

"Then I will leave you here, to do something."


End file.
